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<h2> CHAPTER XIV </h2> My first thought on rising was to look for the detective. The touch of the coming day was on the lake, and I made out the two boats dimly, riding on the dead swell and tugging idly at their chains. The detective had been assigned to a tent which was occupied by Mr. Cooke and the Four, and they were sleeping soundly at my entrance. But Drew's blankets were empty. I hurried to the beach, but the Scimitar's boat was still drawn up there near the Maria's tender, proving that he was still on the island. Outside of the ladies' tent I came upon Miss Thorn, stowing a large basket. I told her that we had taken that precaution the night before. “What did you put in?” she demanded. I enumerated the articles as best I could. And when I had finished, she said, “And I am filling this with the things you have forgotten.” I lost no time in telling her what I had overheard the night before, and that the detective was gone from his tent. She stopped her packing and looked at me in concern. “He is probably watching us,” she said. “Do you think we had better go?” I thought it could do no harm. “If we are followed,” said I, “all we have to do is to turn back.” Miss Trevor came out as I spoke, and our conductor appeared, bending under the hamper. I shouldered some blankets and the basket, and we started. We followed a rough path, evidently cut by a camping party in some past season, but now overgrown. The Fraction marched ahead, and I formed the rear guard. Several times it seemed to me as though someone were pushing after us, and more than once we halted. I put down the basket and went back to reconnoitre. Once I believed I saw a figure flitting in the gray light, but I set it down to my imagination. Finally we reached a brook, sneaking along beneath the underbrush as though fearing to show itself, and we followed its course. Branches lashed our faces and brambles tore our clothes. And then, as the sunlight was filtering through and turning the brook from blue to crystal, we came upon the Celebrity. He was seated in a little open space on the bank, apparently careless of capture. He did not even rise at our approach. His face showed the effect of a sleepless night, and wore an expression inimical to all mankind. The conductor threw his bundle on the bank and laid his hand on the Celebrity's shoulder. “Halloa, old man!” said he, cheerily. “You must have had a hard night of it. But we couldn't make you any sooner, because that hawk of an officer had his eye on us.” The Celebrity shook himself free. And in place of the gratitude for which the Fraction had looked, and which he had every reason to expect, he got something different. “This outrage has gone far enough,” said the Celebrity, with a terrible calmness. The Fraction was a man of the world. “Come, come, old chap!” he said soothingly, “don't cut up. We'll make things a little more homelike here.” And he pulled a bottle from the depths of the hamper. “This will brace you up.” He picked up the hamper and disappeared into the place of retention, while the Celebrity threw the bottle into the brush. And just then (may I be forgiven if I am imaginative!) I heard a human laugh come from that direction. In the casting of that bottle the Celebrity had given vent to some of the feelings he had been collecting overnight, and it must have carried about thirty yards. I dived after it like a retriever puppy for a stone; but the bottle was gone! Perhaps I could say more, but it doesn't do to believe in yourself too thoroughly when you get up early. I had nothing to say when I returned. “You here, Crocker?” said the author, fixing his eye on me. “Deuced kind of you to get up so early and carry a basket so far for me.” “It has been a real pleasure, I assure you,” I protested. And it had. There was a silent space while the two young ladies regarded him, softened by his haggard and dishevelled aspect, and perplexed by his attitude. Nothing, I believe, appeals to a woman so much as this very lack of bodily care. And the rogue knew it! “How long is this little game of yours to continue,—this bull-baiting?” he inquired. “How long am I to be made a butt of for the amusement of a lot of imbeciles?” Miss Thorn crossed over and seated herself on the ground beside him. “You must be sensible,” she said, in a tone that she might have used to a spoiled child. “I know it is difficult after the night you have had. But you have always been willing to listen to reason.” A pang of something went through me when I saw them together. “Reason,” said the Celebrity, raising his head. “Reason, yes. But where is the reason in all this? Because a man who happens to be my double commits a crime, is it right that I, whose reputation is without a mark, should be made to suffer? And why have I been made a fool of by two people whom I had every cause to suppose my friends?” “You will have to ask them,” replied Miss Thorn, with a glance at us. “They are mischief-makers, I'll admit; but they are not malicious. See what they have done this morning! And how could they have foreseen that a detective was on his way to the island?” “Crocker might have known it,” said he, melting. “He's so cursed smart!” “And think,” Miss Thorn continued, quick to follow up an advantage, “think what would have happened if they hadn't denied you. This horrid man would have gone off with you to Asquith or somewhere else, with handcuffs on your wrists; for it isn't a detective's place to take evidence, Mr. Crocker says. Perhaps we should all have had to go to Epsom! And I couldn't bear to see you in handcuffs, you know.” “Don't you think we had better leave them alone?” I said to Miss Trevor. She smiled and shook her head. “You are blind as a bat, Mr. Crocker,” she said. The Celebrity had weighed Miss Thorn's words and was listening passively now while she talked. There may be talents which she did not possess; I will not pretend to say. But I know there are many professions she might have chosen had she not been a woman. She would have made a name for herself at the bar; as a public speaker she would have excelled. And had I not been so long accustomed to picking holes in arguments I am sure I should not have perceived the fallacies of this she was making for the benefit of the Celebrity. He surely did not. It is strange how a man can turn under such influence from one feeling to another. The Celebrity lost his resentment; apprehension took its place. He became more and more nervous; questioned me from time to time on the law; wished to know whether he would be called upon for testimony at Allen's trial; whether there was any penalty attached to the taking of another man's name; precisely what Drew would do with him if captured; and the tail of his eye was on the thicket as he made this inquiry. It may be surmised that I took an exquisite delight in quenching this new-born thirst for knowledge. And finally we all went into the cave. Miss Thorn unpacked the things we had brought, while I surveyed the cavern. It was in the solid rock, some ten feet high and irregular in shape, and perfectly dry. It was a marvel to me how cosy she made it. One of the Maria's lanterns was placed in a niche, and the Celebrity's silver toilet-set laid out on a ledge of the rock, which answered perfectly for a dressing-table. Miss Thorn had not forgotten a small mirror. And as a last office, set a dainty breakfast on a linen napkin on the rock, heating the coffee in a chafing-dish. “There!” she exclaimed, surveying her labors, “I hope you will be more comfortable.” He had already taken the precaution to brush his hair and pull himself together. His thanks, such as they were, he gave to Miss Thorn. It is true that she had done more than any one else. “Good-bye, old boy!” said the Fraction. “We'll come back when we get the chance, and don't let that hundred thousand keep you awake.” The Fraction and I covered up the mouth of the cave with brush. He became confidential. “Lucky dog, Allen!” he said. “They'll never get him away from Cooke. And he can have any girl he wants for the asking. By George! I believe Miss Thorn will elope with him if he ever reaches Canada.” I only mention this as a sample of the Fraction's point of view. I confess the remark annoyed me at the time. Miss Thorn lingered in the cave for a minute after Miss Trevor came out. Then we retraced our way down the brook, which was dancing now in the sunlight. Miss Trevor stopped now and then to rest, in reality to laugh. I do not know what the Fraction thought of such heartless conduct. He and I were constantly on the alert for Mr. Drew, but we sighted the camp without having encountered him. It was half-past six, and we had trusted to slip in unnoticed by any one. But, as we emerged from the trees, the bustling scene which greeted our eyes filled us with astonishment. Two of the tents were down, and the third in a collapsed condition, while confusion reigned supreme. And in the midst of it all stood Mr. Cooke, an animated central figure pedestalled on a stump, giving emphatic directions in a voice of authority. He spied us from his elevated position before we had crossed the brook. “Here they come, Maria,” he shouted. We climbed to the top of the slope, and were there confronted by Mrs. Cooke and Mr. Trevor, with Mr. Cooke close behind them. “Where the devil is Allen?” my client demanded excitedly of the Fraction. “Allen?” repeated that gentleman, “why, we made him comfortable and left him, of course. We had sense enough not to bring him here to be pulled.” “But, you damfool,” cried Mr. Cooke, slightly forgetting himself, “Drew has escaped.” “Escaped?” “Yes, escaped,” said Mr. Cooke, as though our conductor were personally responsible; “he got away this morning. Before we know it, we'll have the whole police force of Far Harbor out here to jug the lot of us.” The Fraction, being deficient for the moment in language proper to express his appreciation of this new development, simply volunteered to return for the Celebrity, and left in a great hurry. “Irene,” said Mr. Trevor, “can it be possible that you have stolen away for the express purpose of visiting this criminal?” “If he is a criminal, father, it is no reason that he should starve.” “It is no reason,” cried her father, hotly, “why a young girl who has been brought up as you have, should throw every lady-like instinct to the winds. There are men enough in this camp to keep him from starving. I will not have my daughter's name connected with that of a defaulter. Irene, you have set the seal of disgrace upon a name which I have labored for a lifetime to make one of the proudest in the land. And it was my fond hope that I possessed a daughter who—” During this speech my anger had been steadily rising. But it was Mrs. Cooke who interrupted him. “Mr. Trevor,” said she, “perhaps you are not aware that while you are insulting your daughter, you are also insulting my niece. It may be well for you to know that Miss Trevor still has my respect as a woman and my admiration as a lady. And, since she has been so misjudged by her father, she has my deepest sympathy. But I wish to beg of you, if you have anything of this nature to say to her, you will take her feelings into consideration as well as ours.” Miss Trevor gave her one expressive look of gratitude. The senator was effectually silenced. He had come, by some inexplicable inference, to believe that Mrs. Cooke, while subservient to the despotic will of her husband, had been miraculously saved from depravity, and had set her face against this last monumental act of outlawry. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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